Kataang Week (Summer 2013)
by Dacyon
Summary: Summer Kataang Week 2013: Hands, Sleepy, Dance, Smirk, Candles, Healing, & Protection. Rating subject to potential change. For Aang and Katara, they loved and admired everything about one another, but on certain days they noticed specific things about each other that they had grown to love.


**A/N** – Greetings! For anyone who takes the time to read this, I thank you for doing so, and hope you enjoy it! I guess this is less of an actual story and more me drabbling, but it's just what came to me. (Also, this is the first story I'm publishing here on , so please bear with me if the text is bunched up, etc.; I'll make sure I fix any issues as quickly as possible)

**Disclaimer**: _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ belongs to Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko; I own nothing.

**Hands**

Kataang Week Day 1: Monday – July 22nd, 2013

For Aang and Katara, they loved and admired everything about one another, but on certain days they noticed _specific_ things about each other that they had grown to love. As Aang took Katara's hands in his own, their eyes met, and they both reflected on the years that had led up to this moment.

When she had first freed Aang from his century-long, suspended animation in his protective iceberg, one of the first things she noticed was how little – how _cute_ – Aang was. Everything about him was small and adorable in her eyes, including his hands. Of course, he was just twelve years old then. His hands had seemed almost fragile when they first met, but by the time Aang defeated Ozai, his hands had grown, albeit, only slightly, and no longer appeared fragile. To Katara, his hands had always been soft, but after weeks of training and fighting, Aang's hands were now stronger and more calloused, but she loved them nonetheless. As Katara's feelings for Aang grew during their quest to restore balance, she used any excuse to hold or feel his hands. During those short moments, she memorized every newly formed rough patch, every piece of still-smooth skin, all of it still soft and gentle, just like Aang. His hands were a perfect reflection of himself – worn and rough, but still soft, gentle, and caring, despite everything he – and his hands – had gone through.

When Aang had first gazed upon Katara, he was awestruck by her beautiful face and captivating eyes. It wasn't until after they had left the bitter cold of the South Pole and begun traveling north that he saw much of her beyond that. He had seen glimpses of her hands before, but when they finally made it to a point where Katara and her brother Sokka could shed their parkas and gloves on a regular basis, he was mesmerized. Like her face and eyes and body, her hands were beautiful beyond words to the young Airbender. He imagined that they were always soft (perhaps as a result of her special seaweed lotion), dexterous, and gentle. He was quite pleased when he learned he was right on all accounts, thanks to her numerous hugs, and later, her 'corrections' of his stance during Waterbending practice. She was very skilled with her hands – using them to cook, to clean, to Waterbend, to comfort, and to heal. And even though she told him several times throughout their adventures that she'd forgiven him, his memories of accidentally burning her beautiful hands still haunted him. But no matter how much damage seemed to be dealt to her hands, to Aang, they were always the smoothest, softest, gentlest, and most caring hands he had ever known. He especially loved the moment when she cupped his face in her hands and brought their lips together for their first kiss as a couple back in Ba Sing Se.

As time went on, Katara's hands stopped growing, but Aang's hands, like the rest of his body, seemed to be constantly trying to compensate for being small an extra hundred years. Aang's numerous growth spurts in the years just after war's end changed him from a short, young teenage boy with small hands to a towering young man with hands almost the size of Katara's face. And no matter how large Aang's hands got, he was always there to comfort Katara, whether it was brushing away her tears or holding on to her as though he feared she'd slip away when she needed him to hold her. And every time, Katara noticed that his hands, despite being small or large, were always gentle with her, as though he was afraid he might break her.

Then there were the moments when the two would just be together, holding hands just because they could; they relished those simple, contented moments. Or when Aang was up late, reviewing peace treaties and new laws, Katara would come up behind him and massage his shoulders – the effect was almost instantaneous – he would slump forward, sigh in contentment, Katara would smirk, and her soft, delicate fingers would continue to work out the kinks in his muscles. Of course, Aang would do the same for her after a long day of Waterbending training and she would respond just as he did while his large but gentle hands smoothed the sore muscles beneath her skin. The two would also use any excuse to kiss each other's hands – for Aang, kissing Katara's hands was a chivalrous and reverent act, as though he was making sure Katara was _his_ and that she was reminded just how much he adored her; for Katara, kissing Aang's hands was another way for her to make sure that Aang was _hers_ and that he was still there and very much alive.

When Aang approached marrying age, his hands began to tremble if they weren't holding Katara's. He was nervous – oh, so nervous about what he wanted to do. He gathered the proper materials with shaking hands, but when the time came to carve the betrothal necklace he wanted to make for Katara, the shaking would stop. It was almost as though the necklace was already a part of Katara and her calming presence was making its way to him. Once he finished the necklace and was proud of his work, his hands no longer shook, but they began to sweat. He knew he had to receive a blessing from Katara's father, Chief Hakoda, for her hand in marriage. Even after Hakoda had, in good faith, grilled Aang with questions and told the Airbender no one was more suited to marry his daughter, Aang's hands continued to sweat. He had the necklace made, had her father's blessing, but he still had to ask _her_ in order to have _her_ _hand_ in marriage. When he finally did work up his courage to ask her, she instantly said 'yes,' and as she exchanged her mother's necklace for his, he wondered why he had been so worried in the first place as they both cried tears of joy and kissed each other senseless.

So now, as he took his bride's hands in his own, and they looked into each others eyes with nothing but complete love and affection, they reflected on the fact that it had always felt wonderful holding hands.

**A/N** - Thanks again for reading! Reviews, comments, questions, and constructive criticism are much appreciated!


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